Act Surprised
by lindsayandhalstead
Summary: One-shot set after 2x12/before 2x13. Smut. "How would you feel about getting your partner back?"


**A/N: Another fresh one. This is basically smut packed up in a nice bow and set the night before 2x13. I miss season 2 Linstead!**

 **Let me know if you like it :)**

* * *

The decision to come back hasn't been the easiest one for Erin. It feels too much like failing, and she has come too far for that. But she figures being a happy failure is still better than suffering proudly.

Hank assures her she's no such thing. _Not everyone is for everything_ , he tells her while they sip on beer in the kitchen that holds so many precious memories for her. She smiles gratefully.

It feels like coming back home to her. Back to the people who love and respect her (right, the guys won't shut up about this for months). But it's her unit. Her family.

The thought of family makes her think of another person, and she quickly tells Hank she should get going.

"When do you want me?"

"In the morning?"

"Works for me." The people at the headquarters have been surprisingly nice, and didn't complicate things when she expressed the wish to leave.

"See you, kiddo." He presses a kiss on her temple before she leaves, and she smiles the entire way to her car. Because after a couple of weeks of having a gut feeling telling her she's doing the wrong thing, it finally feels like she's on the right track again.

* * *

It's been a long day. An even longer week without his partner by his side to have his back.

He constantly turns around, ready to see her dimples show after somebody cracks a joke, or to feel her hand on his shoulder when there is a close call. Instead there is Ruzek, or Atwater. But no Erin.

Even the fact that he fell asleep next to her warm body every night since that first night doesn't seem to make the stress of this week go away. It's going to take a whole lot of getting used to. Much more than he imagined.

Her texts come as a surprise, considering he thought she was leaving the country any minute.

 **E: You still up?**

 **J: Yeah. Thought you'd have left by now?**

 **E: Crazy day. Can I come over? I'll explain.**

 **J: Sure.**

He's surprised when she's at his door only seconds later.

"You could've just knocked," he teases.

"I didn't want to wake you up."

"You can wake me up anytime," he assures her.

There she is now, smiling back at him, offering her lips for a gentle kiss hello. She tastes like beer and longing and hope. And he can't help himself. He catches her lips between his, deepening the kiss, as he walks them backwards into his apartment.

"We need to talk," she murmurs between kisses.

"One more." It's not one, it's not even two or three, but after waiting for so long, he can't hold back. It's undefined number of kisses later, when they're tumbled on the couch, and she's gotten comfortable against him, when they finally speak again.

"What's up?"

"How would you feel about getting your partner back?" Her voice is a mixture of sad and excited, and he's not sure where she's going with this, but he would very much love that. He doesn't answer, but he doesn't need to. She can read the answer in his eyes.

"For real?"

"I'm coming back tomorrow. I just talked to Voight, before I came here."

It all comes out of her, how helpless the new job made her feel. How she didn't like herself at the end of the day, and how she made Lang know in no uncertain terms that this was not a good fit for her. How Lang in return said she was welcome to leave.

The fact that she's not leaving for six months comes up next, and that's when their lips crush together again, because she's here and she's not going anywhere. Not if he can help it.

His hands reach for her blouse, careful with the delicate fabric, as he slides it down her shoulders. She lost her blazer sometime between the kissing, and she kicked off her shoes right after coming. Desperate for skin, he skillfully unbuttons the blouse before it lands on the floor, along with his t-shirt.

It's slower this time, not quite as desperate as it was the first time she came. Their kisses are fueled by the same desire−the desire that doesn't seem to be fading. But it's slower, gentler, because somewhere in the backs of their minds they know they finally have time.

His lips nibble at her neck, sucking on the sensitive skin. He's found quite a few spots in the past few days that can make her writhe beneath him. Her head arches back to give him more access, and he welcomes the opportunity to travel her body with his lips.

Her hands tangle into his hair as she sighs against him. The little moans she makes send a direct signal to his groin, and those alone could send him to heaven. He feels privileged because he knows Erin doesn't let many people see her like this−so vulnerable and raw.

He works on pulling off her pants, which join the blazer and the blouse somewhere on the floor. He takes time, caressing every inch of her skin while she gazes up with longing in her eyes. It's an emotion he has seen in her eyes so many times, but was never sure what it actually was. Over the years, he often wondered if she wanted this as much as he did. The answer is right there, in the dark of her eyes.

She deserves better than a tumble on the couch, so he lifts her up, never quite stopping his kisses, and carries her into the bedroom. He lays her down, standing over her. He thinks he will never get used to how beautiful she is.

She sits up, unbuckling his belt. Looking up, she grins and frees his erection. Before he can even process what is happening, Erin is kneeling on the bed in front of him, taking all of him in. Her eyes have a gleam to them, and all he can think of is how gorgeous she is.

"Erin, you… don't−" He's pretty sure he was going to tell her she doesn't have to do this, but a groan escapes his mouth, and it's too late. The words are forgotten as she bobs her head in a rhythm that sends him straight to hell. "Don't stop. Please," he says instead, tangling his fingers in her hair.

He feels the familiar rush coming, and intends to stop her, but she shakes her head at him slowly. He comes inside her mouth with the force that would have knocked him off his feet if he didn't brace himself on her shoulders.

With her hair disheveled, and her lips swollen, she looks like a sex goddess from another planet. She also looks particularly smug about it, and he can't help but grin at her. Because she has a good reason to be smug.

"I'm not done with you yet," he murmurs, tumbling them both on bed.

"I was counting on that."

He tosses her bra over his shoulder, not even bothering with the little scrape of fabric, which is the last piece of clothing on her. Instead, he just pushes it aside, sliding his fingers in.

"You're so fucking wet." He groans in delight when her hips buck up almost violently to meet his strokes halfway. Her lip catches between her teeth, and it's one of the most erotic things he has ever seen. He goes faster, kissing down her chest. When he reaches the sensitive skin on her breasts, she inhales sharply at the added pleasure, and arches against the mattress, offering all of her.

The moans (officially his new favorite sound), let him know she's close. He stops, withdrawing the fingers, and ignores her frustrated groan. He pulls down her underwear, and when she's just about to protest about him being a tease, he slides into her.

She's too sensitive, and the friction proves to be too much. She comes immediately, whimpering in his arms as he continues to move inside her.

Then it's not slow anymore. It's a frenzied race, as the sound of flesh against flesh fills the room. Their lips meet in a messy kiss, before the race ends with both of them plunging off the cliff into the deep blue ocean of pleasure. She calls out his name for the third time that night, as he collapses on top of her completely spent.

Their bodies are covered in a thin layer of perspiration, and their hair is damp against their skin, but as they drift soon after, their hearts drum to the same rhythm.

* * *

"I have to go," she murmurs against his cheek. He groans. Neither of them got nearly enough sleep, and he's so cozy and warm.

"Stay. You can shower here," he says with a sleepy voice that she finds too damn adorable for her own good.

"I don't have any clothes. And we can't come to the precinct together," she murmurs. "I wish I didn't have to."

She jumps into the bathroom to clean herself up a bit, and then picks her scattered clothes from the floor. He's no longer sleeping, but instead watching her smugly from the bed. Throwing one glance at his bare chest makes her want to jump back into bed.

"Act surprised when you see me," she teases, pulling on her blouse.

"Got it, partner."

The gentleman he is, he walks her to the door, not wasting an opportunity to steal a scorching hot kiss. She smiles into his mouth. Then she takes another one for the road, while both of them wish they didn't have to say goodbye at all.

He doesn't even bother going back to bed, knowing perfectly well he won't be able to fall back asleep without her warm body snuggled against his. And he once again realizes they didn't talk about what her coming back to the unit means for them.

* * *

"I wasn't going to say anything," he says, grinning. "But then Lang called and said you left the pantsuit at the headquarters."

They both grin, taking pleasure in being the only two people in the bullpen to know that she actually picked up the pantsuit off of his floor just a few hours ago.

* * *

"Just because I'm back, doesn't mean I want to quit me and you," she says seriously, answering the question he never dared to ask.

And even though he replies in a joking manner, he's glad, because he doesn't really think he could quit them. Because the feeling of his heart fluttering in his chest whenever she's near is something he's not quite willing to give up yet.


End file.
